


Pandora's Box

by loki_dokey



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Coffee Shop Owner! Rhys, M/M, Pre-Sequel Jack, Tattoo Artist!Jack, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-24 10:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6150262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loki_dokey/pseuds/loki_dokey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coffee Shop AU. Rhys opens his coffee shop next door to a well-established tattoo parlour named ‘Helios’. He tries to paint the shop sign but can’t, apparently, because he ‘hasn’t got an eye for colours’. He’s got an eye for something else though...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Signs

**Author's Note:**

> An idea from @gemodawn on tumblr which they have graciously allowed me to pursue. I have altered the AU slightly, though! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Remember, comments make me a happy happy sin bunny :3

Rhys took a step back on the sidewalk, placing a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun so that he could gaze up at the battered, half-scrubbed-off sign that sat above _his very own_ coffee shop. Well, soon-to-be coffee shop. At that precise moment, it was a mere empty shell with leaking pipes and a strange, unidentifiable smell. However, that could be fixed. Rhys was happy. More than happy, in fact; he was ecstatic. Despite everything: the paperwork, the stress, the bartering, the flirting with the agent...he was here. This smelly, soggy empty shell of a building was his and his alone.  It sat in the perfect spot. Commuters strolled by morning and night. The sidewalks were never empty. It looked out across the prettiest part of town. Rhys grinned wider and wider and eventually chuckled to himself. It was surely the beginning of something great.

“Alright, lover boy, can you make use of that pert ass and grab a box from the truck?” As Yvette passed him, she bumped him on the hip with her own and tossed him a wink before heading inside.

“Okay so,” Fiona announced, placing the box she was carrying at her feet and staring up at the sign alongside Rhys, “the plumber will be here at eleven. I’m gonna dump this inside and go pick up the paint from the store. You still set on those colours?”

It took her hand on his shoulder to bring him back to reality.

“Oh? Oh! Yeah. Yes. The paints. Those colours are for definite. Thanks, Fiona.”

Fiona nodded and clapped him on the shoulder again. “Yvette’s right. No use standing out here just gaping at it.” She gestured towards the door. “Go! Idiot!”

Following orders, Rhys heaved a box from the truck into his arms and opened the shop door with his foot. He wished he could walk in and breathe in some sort of fresh scent like people did in the movies, but he could only wrinkle his nose and let out a whine of disgust. Yvette was nowhere to be seen, but Sasha sat crossed-legged on the counter, typing away at her tablet and humming to herself.

“Did they confirm that they’re coming today?” he asked warily, praying that her answer was a good one. “Please say they’re coming today.”

Sasha looked up at him and beamed. “When have I ever let you down? They’ll be here at half past twelve. Sound good?”

Rhys dropped the box and squeezed her knees which she’d now allowed to dangle. “You are the absolute best.”

Sasha tossed her hair. “I know.”

“So, I found the source of the smell.” Yvette stepped into the room from the back looking extremely unimpressed. Rhys raised an eyebrow. “There’s about six dead mice under the sink in the kitchen. You might want to make a call.”

“Fuck,” Rhys growled. As if he needed yet another issue to arise from this place. Yet, he reminded himself, breathing slowly, it was perfect. It _would_ be perfect.

Everything would be fine.

*

“Can you pass up the pink,” Rhys asked around the large paintbrush clenched between his teeth. “No, not that pink, _that_ pink.”

Fiona flashed him a glare, folding her arms defiantly. “Well if you hadn’t asked for _three_ different shades of pink then it would be so hard to understand what you want, would it?”

Rhys frowned. “Can you just pass it please?” Balancing himself carefully, he took the brush out of his mouth and gestured his hand down at her. “I don’t have all day for your bitching.”

Yvette made a face and hid her laughter behind her hand, turning away to continue painting the edge of the window frames. Fiona turned as red as the paint on the floor beside her.

“Man, you are on thin ice.”

Rhys flashed her a strained smile. “Fine. I will get it myself.” He climbed down the fairly precarious ladder and grinned up at her as he picked up the paint, dipped a finger in and wiped it across her face quicker than she could process. Her gasp and snarl indicated that he was in for a serious hiding but their petty quarrel was interrupted by a loud, angry voice from behind them.

“What the _fuck_ is this.”

Spinning around, Rhys laid his eyes upon a very attractive, well-built man with heterochromatic eyes like his and a jawline so fine Rhys didn’t really know what to do with himself. However, the man did not look happy. He was looking at the freshly painted sign with what appeared to be the utmost anguish.

“Why the hell is it pink?”

“Um…?”

“I mean look!” The man pointed at the tattoo parlour next door and then back at Rhys’ place. “It’s _pink_! Freaking pink!”

Rhys bent to place his paintbrush in the tin and as he stood he folded his arms. “What point are you trying to make, sir?”

At the ‘sir’ the man seemed taken aback. The hint of a smile flickered across his lips before it curled back into a grimace. He sighed and rolled his eyes, folding his arms to match Rhys’ stance.

“I _mean_ , who in their right mind paints yellow lettering against a pink background?” The man stalked around and grabbed the paintbrush out of Rhys’ hand. He shook it under his nose. “And _who_ would try and paint both the lettering and the background at the same time.” The man continued to grumble as he gazed back up at the sign. “I’ve been watching you for some time now, kiddo, and I need to tell you that I won’t have such a shit sign next to mine.”

It clicked. This guy ran the tattoo parlour next door. The sleek, black and yellow fronted store with the incredible artwork and five star rating in the windows. _Helios,_ it was called. However, his rude introduction - if it could even be called that - left an unquellable rage bubbling inside of Rhys.

“Don’t,” Rhys snapped, stepping forward and raising a finger. The man stepped back, eyes widening. “Don’t you come marching out here like some self-entitled prick and tell _me_ what to do with _my_ shop. You didn’t even say hello. You just waltz out here like you own the whole fucking street and -”

“The name’s Jack,” Jack interrupted bluntly, sticking out a hand. “And being an artist, I simply couldn’t just let you defile this street with your inability to see in colour.”

Rhys opened his mouth to respond.

“No but I see his point,” Yvette mused, finger on her chin. Rhys turned to her and flashed her a warning glare, shaking his head. “I mean, when you really think about it...it’s super ugly.”

Sasha chewed her lip. “Didn’t want to say it, but…”

“I was totally waiting till you finished to say it,” Fiona added with a smirk, “but it’s goddamn awful.”

Rhys didn’t really remember the next few moments. He was so blinded with anger that he couldn’t quite muster words, huffed instead and stormed inside and up to his room.

Why did he always have to surround himself with assholes.

*

Rhys hadn’t intended to fall asleep. He only realised he _had_ in fact dozed off when he awoke, blinking bleary eyes into clarity and sitting up. He would have taken more time to adjust but when he spotted a familiar face outside of his second floor bedroom window, he couldn’t help but shriek. Jack, the asshole tattoo artist from next door, was _painting_ his _fucking_ sign. Or at least Rhys preferred that idea to him potentially defiling it with graffiti. Neither one was favorable. He jumped from the bed and threw the window open, shocking the man on the other side so much that he almost lost his balance.

“What are you doing?” Rhys hissed, trying to lean out of the window to see. “Who gave you permission to paint on my sign?”

Jack was silent for a moment. “Like...all of your friends?”

Yes, Rhys was definitely going to murder every single one of them.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, stalking out of the room and down the stairs, mentally preparing himself for what diabolical shiny black scrawl would have been plastered across his shop front. He tore past his treacherous “friends” and out through the front door.

“If you even think for a second that I’ll be keeping your stupid design then-” He stopped short. His jaw dropped, eyes like saucers. The sign was wonderfully, beautiful perfect. It was still pink, with reds tucked up into the four corners, blended out seamlessly. ‘Pandora’s Box’, the name of the cafe, was swirled across in white text, outlined in black. A rose was painted at the end, in incredible detail.

“Holy shit,” he announced with a gasp, fingers touching at his chest and then at his throat. He could have cried with how much better a job Jack had done. “It’s…” Yet he wouldn’t give the rude man the satisfaction of a thank you. “Don’t you have like, clients? A job? To do?”

Jack laughed as he stepped off of the ladder and dusted his hands on his pants.

“I’ll take that holy shit as a thanks. Tuesdays are quiet for us. I didn’t have anyone to tat so…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So I thought I’d do you a favor.”

Rhys bit his lip. The guy was really hot. He hated himself. He wanted to not find the guy hot whatsoever. He wanted to hate every inch of him but he also wanted to _touch_ every inch of him because damn the muscles on the guy were -

“Hey kiddo, are you going to reply or are you going to keep staring at me?”

Rhys balked at Jack’s expression, catching himself and pulling a face in return.

“Yeah well, thanks. Anything else you want to stick your nose in before I open my doors to the public?”

Jack smirked. “As long as you let your friends pick the colours, I think you’ll be just fine, pumpkin.”

Rhys poked out his tongue. “Do you even know my name?”

“I was guessing Pandora,” Jack quipped, jerking his thumb back towards the sign. He grinned at his own joke.

“Wow, no.” Rhys stepped forward, determined to try and be the bigger person from that moment on. “My name is Rhys.”

“Heh, I know. Your very good best pals told me. They also told me that you have tatts.” Jack stretched. “Maybe come to me with a design sometime.” He looked up at the shop sign. “Perhaps something to symbolise this new adventure of yours.”

With that, he turned and left, disappearing into the parlour. Rhys simply remained on the sidewalk, not quite sure how to understand the hot tattooist next door, but secretly, desperately wanting to understand him all the same.

*

“All of you are fired.” Rhys locked the door behind him and turned to face his friends. They were sitting on a freshly laid wooden floor which Rhys had no recollection of seeing before. He slid down beside Fiona. “Christ, how long did I nap?”

Fiona leant back on her elbows. “About five hours. It’s three, dumbo.”

“Woah.”

Sasha leant her head against his shoulder. “You obviously needed it, bubs.”

“Mmm.”

Yvette yawned. “The furniture is getting delivered at five. I called pest control and they should be here in a half hour. Jack did a good job on the sign, huh?”

“He’s gorgeous,” Sasha swooned, biting her lip. “He kept talking about you when he was painting, Rhys.”

“Mmm.” Rhys was beginning to doze off when something hit him. “Wait did you say five hours? I was asleep for five hours?

“...Yes?”

“Jack was out there for _five hours_ painting my sign?” He sat up suddenly, eyes blown wide. “Five _hours_?!”

“He took his time. Said he wanted it to be perfect for you.” Yvette winked at him as Rhys bounded to his feet and unlocked the door. He hurried round to the parlour and peered in through the window, spying Jack chatting to a tall, dark haired woman. Jack had...spent five hours? Of his life? Painting Rhys’ sign? He wrenched open the door. Jack and the lady turned to regard him, Jack raising an eyebrow and offering a smile.

“A lifetime supply of coffee. Just for you.” Rhys pointed. “As a thank you.” Rhys was back in the café in under thirty seconds, breathing hard. He hadn’t even registered if he’d looked Jack in the eye. All he knew as his breathing slowed was that he must have come across like an _absolute_ moron.

 


	2. Roses and Coffee Stains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man all of your comments are gorgeous. I'm really really really enjoying writing this so expect lots of chapters in a short space of time. At least, that's what I hope to provide. I live for tattoo artist fics and being able to finally write one is a blessing. 
> 
> Also cue Rhys still being a huge doofus and Jack still being ridiculously hot because I mean when is he not.
> 
> ALSO quick one Jack is Pre-Sequel Jack in this so he is without his facial scarring and mask.

The sunlight streamed in straight through the thin drapes, rendering them altogether useless. The light hit Rhys’ face in such a way that he was slowly but surely brought out of a pleasant dream consisting of tattoos, wet paint and silver streaks. He opened his eyes, staring at the drapes and frowning. Those would definitely need to be changed. He made a mental note and pushed himself into a sitting position, resting himself against the wall. He sighed. Today was going to be a long day. The furniture had arrived but needed to be arranged. The _La Marzocco_ machine was being delivered at some point, as were the cups and saucers and cutlery. All of the surfaces needed to be deep cleaned, as did all of the kitchen equipment and prep area. Yvette and Sasha would take care of the kitchen, Rhys knew that much. Fiona would set up the furniture. Rhys snuggled back down under the sheets, pulling them up to his mouth. Perhaps a few more minutes in bed wouldn’t hurt. He closed his eyes, but reopened them not a minute later when the sound of something falling and breaking came from through the wall. There was a following exclamation of “oh, fuck” which Rhys was very sure had come from Jack.

He wondered if Jack lived next door.

He wondered if Jack would be able to hear everything that happened in his apartment for the length of time they remained neighbours. It was then that Rhys groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Who was he kidding. There would never be anything juicy for Jack to listen to because nothing would ever goddamn happen. The last time Rhys had been fucked was...

Well, he couldn’t even remember.

Rhys bit his lip nonetheless. He hadn’t realised the walls were so paper thin. The estate agent hadn’t said anything about thin walls. Sighing for most probably the sixth time since waking, Rhys finally slid out of bed and pressed his feet onto the cold floor. He made another note to get a rug – a fluffy, white rug – to put next to his bed. It was as he contemplated how nice a rug like that would feel that the scent of frying bacon drifted through into his room, indicating that one of the girls was already at work and preparing something scrumptious for breakfast downstairs. Yawning massively and stretching every muscle he could, Rhys clambered to his feet, threw his bathrobe around himself and slipped his feet into his slippers.

It was time to start another day.

*

“Have you heard the new bullshit Tassiter’s been spewing?” Fiona grumbled sleepily, turning the page of her paper. “I mean it’s beyond ridiculous.”

Rhys took a bite of his bacon roll. “He just proves time and time again that the Republican party don’t have a freaking clue how real life works. I mean, he’d take one look at you three and be like ‘they’re brown! Send them away! Get them out of my sight, the slaves belong in the fields!’”

“He’s backwards and stupid. All of it is stupid.” Yvette stirred her coffee slowly, gazing into the drink with a stern expression on her face. “I just hope Roland wins the preliminaries. He’s certainly got my vote.”

From her place at the counter, Sasha let out a long whine. “Please stop talking politics. It’s depressing enough seeing it on the TV and plastered on every billboard.” She hopped off of the counter and padded over to the table, pouring herself a tea from the pot. “Y’know, I was thinking. Why don’t we get a cat for the café? One that just wanders around and keeps people company?”

Rhys almost choked on his own tea. “A cat? And who would look after it, hmm? Me? Because I live here? No thanks. I don’t do cats.”

“You don’t do _cats_?” Fiona retorted abruptly, slamming down her paper and making the table shudder. “What the fuck, Rhys?”

Rhys simply shrugged, looking back down at his catalogue. Fiona was muttering something about him being a freak for a while, but soon the four found a comfortable silence and ate their breakfast happily.

“When’s Vaughn coming back from his business trip again?” Yvette asked as she began clearing the plates. “It’s been ages now.”

“Next weekend, apparently.”

“Awww, are you excited to see your macho little boyfriend?” Fiona bumped Rhys’ leg with her foot under the table and winked. Rhys rolled his eyes.

“Don’t start that again.” Rhys stood, letting the catalogue close with a _thump._ He checked his watch. “We’d better start on our jobs. Fiona, will you help me start with the furniture after I check up on the delivery?”

Fiona nodded a reply, smiling as she retreated into the kitchen.

*

When the coffee machine arrived, Rhys may or may not have shed a shameless tear as he unpacked it, immediately falling in love with the shining, untouched surface and the various attachments. Sasha appeared above, leaning over the counter.

“Oooh, looks pretty,” she cooed, grinning. “Can’t wait to see it make its first coffee.”

Rhys couldn’t either. He also couldn’t wait to give it to the person who would be drinking it. But he wouldn’t be saying that out loud.

*

As Rhys opened the door to the tattoo parlour, he was greeted by a pleasant scent of fresh flowers and a warm smile from the blonde-haired girl behind the front desk. She was young yet old, something telling in her eyes that suggested she’d seen in a lot in her past.

“Hi there! How can I help you?” Her voice was sweet and accented. She strolled around to shake his hand.

Rhys shook it with a grin followed by a bite of his lip. “I’m here to see Jack? I have some coffee for him.”

The girl’s eyes blew wide. “Oh, are you Rhys?”

Rhys nodded, raising an eyebrow at her sudden change in tone. She clapped her hands together, beaming.

“Goodness, you really are as cute as a button. I’ve heard all about you, Rhys. Take a seat, I’ll go let him know you’re here.”

She practically skipped off into the back of the parlour, leaving Rhys dawdling with no idea as to what to do with the cute as a button line. Had Jack…? Said?

No.

Of course not.

She was gone for a short while, before she floated back into view with a cheek-splitting grin on her face.

“He’s just coming now, but he can’t be long. He’s in the middle of a piece.” She sauntered behind the desk and leant against it with folded arms. “I’m Janey, by the way. I’m an artist here. There’s also Athena, my girlfriend, Wilhelm and Nisha. Angel works here on weekends. She’s Jack’s daughter. Figured you should know about us, seeing as we’re next-door neighbours now.” Janey winked. At that moment, Jack rounded the corner and looked like the cat that got the cream the moment he laid eyes on Rhys.

“Well if it isn’t my favourite coffee shop owner.” Jack strode up to him, folding his arms as he stopped only a metre away. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt which showed off his arms and chest in a way that did things to Rhys’ throat and abdomen. Surprisingly, Rhys noted, he didn’t have any tattooes other than one circling his wrist.

“What can I do for you, Rhys?”

Now, Rhys was planning to be professional and to the point about how he was bringing him his first coffee but Jack would have to come and collect the rest and how it was going to be the best coffee he’d ever tasted but what came out of Rhys’ mouth was hands down the most embarrassing jumble of crap Rhys had ever said.

“Well um it’s uh you see um,” Rhys blurted, feeling his face heat up dramatically. “I got this new machine I’ve been saving for and waiting to put in my very own cafe and this is the very first coffee I ever made from it and it’s like I’ve waited years for this machine but I owed you so I thought you should have the first one because I mean you did such a great job at the sign and-”

Rhys could have died when he felt Jack’s firm hand on his shoulder. It caused him to check himself and remember exactly how fast he’d been talking.

“Hey pumpkin, don’t forget how to breathe.” Jack’s smile almost caused Rhys to have a heart attack. “The sign was nothing. However…” Jack let go and took a long swig of the coffee. Rhys flinched and went to remind Jack how hot it still was, but Jack pulled the cup away from his lips in shock, gazing down at it in his hand. He didn’t speak for a while until he blinked and stared directly at Rhys. “You know. Scratch me saying the sign was nothing. I will totally take you up on the lifetime supply. Rhys, did you _make_ this?” Rhys nodded shyly. “Holy _shit._ Babe, we all drink coffee here.” He swung his arms out, gesturing at the parlour. “Think of the Helios crew as your very first loyal regulars because damn, we will be a very regular sight in Pandora’s Box. You can be sure of that.”

*

That night, Rhys was tucked onto one of the new armchairs that Fiona had set out in the cafe. It was huge and comfortable, but Rhys wasn’t focusing on how nice it felt due to the fact he was hyper-focused on furiously scratching a pencil across a piece of notepad paper. Since walking out of Helios with the feeling of Jack’s hand on his shoulder and his eyes on his face, Rhys was desperate for Jack to get his hands on him again. He wanted a tattoo by Jack’s hand. A tattoo by a hot tattoo artist. Rhys could totally roll with that. Finishing off the design and feeling accomplished, he stood and wondered whether or not Jack would still be in the shop. It was only half eight. Pulling on his hoodie and high tops, Rhys unlocked the cafe door and padded outside, ignoring the flutter in his chest when he saw the light pouring through from Helios’ windows. Pressing his hand against the glass, he frowned when there was no one to be seen. Rhys knocked.

It took a few moments, but when Jack’s face appeared from around the corner at the back of the shop, Rhys smiled and Jack smiled back. He waltzed up to the door and peered through at Rhys, making no attempt to unlock and allow him inside.

“Unless you bring something great like that coffee, I’m afraid I can’t just let you in.”

Wordless, Rhys pressed his paper against the glass, pointing and grinning smugly. And Jack had said he wasn’t artistic. He had not expected Jack to completely lose his shit and begin crying with laughter, muffled by the door between them. Rhys’ joy quickly ebbed, transforming into anger.

“Hey,” he shouted, disgruntled. “What the hell?”

Jack unlocked the door, still laughing. “What even is that?”

Rhys crossed his arms, glowering. “My design. That you told me to do. Why the fuck are you laughing at it? How rude.”

Wiping a tear from his eye, Jack chuckled. “Oh, babe. I’m sorry. I just...oh, christ. Are you? You’re not kidding around with me? That’s your design?” With a pout, Rhys nodded. “Oh man, come in. Just...Wow. We need to chat.”

*

“Rhys you can’t...I can’t tattoo this on you.”

Rhys was perched on a chair in the back of Helios, watching Jack dart about as he tidied and set up the shop for the following morning. The place was bigger than it seemed on the outside, with small rooms set off this way and that. Framed artwork hung all around, some signed by Jack, some by Nisha and some by Athena. One very impressive piece hung behind Rhys, with ‘Janey Springs’ scrawled at the bottom.

“Well not like this.” Rhys gestured at the sketch in his hand. “You can obviously draw it way better.”

Looking up from stacking some paperwork, Jack rolled his lips together, clearly trying to suppress a shit-eating grin. “I just..um..oh Rhys, it’s so fucking awful.”

Enraged, Rhys pulled his knees up to his chest and scowled at Jack over them. “ _Please_. Tell me what’s so terrible about it.”

At this, Jack snatched the crumpled paper from Rhys and turned it around. With his index finger, he began walking Rhys through it.

“Firstly, a coffee cup? Pouring the name of your shop out with coffee?”

“I thought that looked cool.”

“A rose? Under the coffee? Like? Um?”

“I like roses.”

“Rhysie, I like dick but I wouldn’t tattoo one across my chest.”

Rhys didn’t really know what to do with that piece of information. He felt his eyes go wide and his jaw drop slightly, but he quickly snapped it shut. He wondered if Jack had purposefully let that slip.

He hoped so.

Not that it meant anything, since Jack didn’t know Rhys was gay… right?

“You can’t have a rose, kiddo. I am very, _very_ against roses.” A beat. “On _anyone._ ”

 _But you’re not against dick,_ Rhys thought. _What about my dick?_ Terrible, dirty thoughts began racing across Rhys’ mind but he quickly pushed them aside. Obviously Jack had no problem sharing his sexuality so openly, so Rhys wouldn’t treat it like a big deal. Instead he groaned, throwing his head back against the back of the chair.

“Okay! So I don’t have the best imagination. But I tried. That’s the best I can do.”

Jack sighed as he stood. He crossed the room and grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper from his station.

“Rhys, babe, look. I’ll design you a tat. I already have an idea I think you’ll love.”

Rhys was taken aback. “You already have an idea?”  
Jack shrugged. “Yeah. Been thinking about what I’d get to ink on you since I stepped up that ladder to paint your sign. Then you come and put this under my nose,” He shook Rhys’ design in the air as his shoulders rose and fell with his chuckles, “and it’s difficult not to find it hilarious.”

Rhys swallowed around a lump that had been slowly forming in his throat since he’d knocked on the glass at the front of Helios. There were so many signals from Jack that suggested Rhys interested him. Yet Rhys knew better than to jump to conclusions. That had led him down too many wrong paths in the past.

“I’d love for you to design me something, Jack,” Rhys said quietly, looking down at his hands. He glanced up at Jack through his lashes. He was pulling out the big guns. “I’d love to see what you can do.”

Jack raised both eyebrows. “Well then. Just you wait, Rhys. You’ll be blown away.”

The way Jack’s tongue rolled around ‘blown’ had Rhys standing.

“I...have to go. But I’ll see you tomorrow? At the opening of Pandora’s Box?”

Jack stepped forward as Rhys stepped back.

“Wouldn’t miss it, babe.”


	3. Inkheart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for your lovely comments! And thank you to my lovely beta BigBWolf who I would not be able to exist without. 
> 
> <3 Enjoy! <3

The following morning was extremely busy. They were up at five to have the cafe ready for its grand opening at seven. Yvette and Sasha were busy making the sandwiches and cakes; Yvette herself had been hurtling about in the kitchen since half past four making sure that every single bit of prep had been done. Rhys exited the kitchen after a tasting session and walked into the main cafe, tapping his pen against his lips, furrowing his brows in pained thought.

"What if we never have a single customer?"

Sasha turned from her place at the coffee machine, glaring at him. "Don't be so stupid," she hissed, pointing her finger. "Once one person gets a taste of our coffee, they'll be singing our praises right across the city."

Suddenly, Fiona flung her arm around Rhys' shoulder. He jumped and yelped, but she didn't budge.

"Homeboy, you make the best cup of joe I've ever had the pleasure of tasting. Better than even Sasha can make." Sasha nodded, smiling. "Don't make me punch you for your deflating self-doubt." Rhys sighed, chuckling.

"Thanks, Fi." He pecked her on the cheek and she grimaced, shoving him away as she returned to the back of the cafe, yelling about how much she hated intimate physical contact.

*

It was a quarter to seven when there was loud knocking on the front windows of Pandora’s Box. Rhys looked up from making the batch of coffee samples to see Jack, Janey and three other people outside. Jack and Janey were waving, yet the other three didn't look very impressed to be there at all. Rhys squeaked as he hurried to the door, unlocking it to allow them in, meeting Jack’s gaze as he did so. He sincerely hoped that Jack didn’t see the pink blush spreading across his cheeks as he immediately looked back down at the door he was opening.

"Hey, kiddo!"

"Oh my gosh, this place is so pretty!"

"Jack, the coffee here better be as good as you said because it is ridiculously early and I'm not even on shift till eight."

They bustled in noisily, bringing Fiona, Sasha and Yvette out from the kitchen to see what was going on.

"Who's this?" Sasha asked, patting her hands down on her apron and smiling warmly.

Rhys couldn't help the grin on his face. "Everyone, this is the Helios team from next door. You know Jack already, but this is Janey and the others are...?"

The tall, dark haired lady who Rhys recognised waved her hand, face fierce and unwavering. "Athena."

A largely muscular and bearded man smirked, nodding his head. "Wilhelm."

"Name's Nisha." A dark-skinned lady in a cowboy hat appeared from behind Wilhelm to introduce herself. "Nice place you got here."

"Thanks," Fiona replied, expression cautious. She crossed her arms. "Well, aren't you all a happy bunch."

Athena recoiled. "It's not even _seven in the morning_."

"We don't start our shifts till eight and our customers don't come in till eleven," Nisha added.

"Jack said you guys might need some help," Janey added brightly. "So we're here!" Her jazz hands warmed Rhys' heart. He had thought Jack would be appearing at some point later in the morning, not offering to _help_ before _opening time_.

Jack took a deep breath in, rolled his shoulders back and grinned. “Wouldn’t mind a coffee to get me ready for the day. Actually, I don’t think any of us would mind one. Fancy showing these idiots what they’ve been missing, Rhysie?”

The nickname swam through Rhys, who was already exceptionally giddy from getting to be near Jack once more, and he blushed _again_. Hastily, he dashed behind the counter to start making orders and to hide his stupid face.

*

Rhys received an abundance of compliments from the Helios crew; even Athena cracked a smile after taking her first sip of cappuccino. The moment she caught Rhys watching her, however, the passive façade reemerged and the smile disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“So,” Jack exclaimed, settling back further into an armchair. “Anything you’d like us to do this morning for ya? Hand out flyers?”

Rhys glanced at the coffee samples that Fiona and Sasha would have been handing out on the sidewalk.

“Well...”

*

Whatever Helios were doing, it was working. According to Sasha, who had just returned from refilling the samples, the tattooists had taken it upon themselves to take up positions at both ends of the street and on both sides. Customers were piling in, desperate to grab a coffee before heading off to work, and samples were running out just as quickly as they were being filled. Rhys was rushed off his feet but nothing was ruining his high spirits. They were packed out. It was more perfect than Rhys could have ever imagined. And with Fiona, Sasha and Yvette around rather than giving out the samples, they kept up with the huge amount of orders.

At eight, Jack threw him a salute from the door as he popped a couple of stacked trays just inside on a table. Rhys met his eyes and nodded, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before turning back to his customer. A small smile crept onto his lips.

He owed Jack big time.

*

When the crowd died down around ten, Rhys excused himself from the cafe to go and thank Jack, Athena, Janey, Wilhelm and Nisha personally. It was totally _just_ a ‘thank you’ and not _just_ an excuse to go and see Jack, which was what Yvette had implied as he’d told them where he was going. In his hands he carried a bagful of freshly-made sandwiches and some bags of chips, assuming they’d all be starving after standing out in the cold for an hour. Nisha greeted him when he walked in, her eyes going to the sandwich Rhys had pulled from his bag.

“A thank you. For this morning.” Nisha took it and smiled.

“No problem, kid. The busier you are, the busier we should get. You scratch our back,” Nisha waved the sandwich, “we scratch yours.”

“Rhys!” Janey sprung out from a side room, pen in hand. She rushed forward and took the sandwich Rhys brandished at her. “Oh man, you literally hold my heart in your hands.” She unwrapped it greedily and took a large bite. “How did it go? Looked real busy from where we were standing.”

“It was awesome. We’ve at least tripled what we forecasted for today already!”  
She swallowed her mouthful. “Nice! Aw, I’m so happy for you! Thanks for the sandwich by the way. Shall I get Jack?”

“No need,” the man himself announced, walking up beside her. Rhys caught his breath and thrust a sandwich into Jack’s hands.

“For this morning. Thank you, Jack. I don’t think we’d have had such a success without you guys.”

Jack shrugged. “It was nothin’. But tell you what _isn’t_ nothing.” He clicked his tongue. “I’ve nearly finished your design. It should be done by tonight if you wanna come by and check it out?”

“Oh!” Rhys was taken aback. Jack was very... _efficient._ Where had he found the time to design Rhys’ tattoo? Hadn’t they only been discussing it last night? “Yeah, sure! I’d love to see it. So shall I come by before or - ”

“After,” Jack purred in interruption, leaning closer and flashing a strange smile. “Come _after_ closing time.”

There was something in the way he said it. How his eyebrows rose and fell as he spoke. The way his tongue formed the words. It all shot to Rhys’ groin ever so suddenly.

“Yes! I’ll be there! Just gotta go back to the cafe now, see what damage they’ve done in my absence! Give the sandwiches to the others! Bye!”

Rhys let the door click behind him before he breathed. He couldn’t wait.

*

“I can’t believe it went so well today. People we saw this morning came back after work, we got loads of tips...It was better than I could have ever dreamed.” Rhys sat where he had sat the night before, spinning the chair slightly as Jack flicked through his sketch book to find the design. “Thanks again.”

The other man looked up in surprise. “Rhys, I’ve told you. Don’t mention it.”

Rhys hummed a response, focusing in on one of the paintings on the wall with Jack’s name at the bottom. It was a terrifying creature with jaws that opened in four ways, standing before a beautiful blue and purple cosmos background. The detail was incredible.

“Ah! Here we are.” Jack squatted down beside him and slid the sketch under Rhys’ nose. He began babbling about it and pointing, but the moment Rhys looked at it he couldn’t take on board anything other than what he was seeing.

At the bottom of the design was an intricate box, open ever so slightly. Coming from the box and drifting upwards were circles just like that on his neck, of various shapes and sizes. Amidst them were silhouettes of birds and strange patterns, getting bigger and bigger towards the top of the design.

“Pandora’s Box,” Rhys whispered, tracing his fingers over the drawing. His heart thudded in his ears. “Jack, it’s wonderful.”

“Thought you’d like it.”

Rhys looked down at Jack and smiled. “I love it.”

“I’m glad.”

The expression on Jack’s face was undecipherable. His gaze drifted across Rhys’ features, as though he were drinking him in all he could. Rhys looked down at him, wondering what would happen if he leant just a little bit closer...

“I, um...should go. It’s late.” Rhys stood.

“Oh, yeah.” Jack stood. Jack rubbed his neck. “So when do you wanna do this?”

“Can I get back to you about that? I...I really have to go. I...” Rhys feigned a yawn. “Damn, it’s so late. I hadn’t even realised the time.”

“Mmm,” Jack agreed, looking at his watch. “Well, let me know about when you want this tat. I’m a very busy man, you see.”

Rhys paused as he went to turn the corner to leave. His teeth rolled over his bottom lip.

“What about sometime after work this week? I could bring coffee and food and we could–“

“Thursday. After work,” Jack interrupted abruptly. Rhys locked in on his eyes. “It’s a date.”

A silence fell between them for a while. Jack’s eyes were on his sketchbook. Rhys’ eyes were on Jack.

“Yeah,” he finally concluded. “It’s a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooooooooh Thursday
> 
> It's a date ;D ;D ;D


	4. Hot and Delicious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwwwwww yissssss nice long chapter for you. I LOVED writing this chapter. 
> 
> Also there's a little somethin' somethin' in here for @scootsaboot on Tumblr. They had this idea for an AU: 
> 
> ok but rhack coffee shop au where jack comes into the shop every morning/afternoon and hits on rhys with really shitty pick-up lines and he orders disgusting + difficult sweet drinks and he always asks about the secret menu even though rhys tells him constantly THERE IS NO SECRET MENU and idk he’s just obnoxious and YET rhys is still like i can’t NOT fuck him
> 
> I did my best, haha! ;) ENJOY, FRIENDS
> 
> Also your comments are beautiful <3 Thank you <3

On Tuesday, Rhys wasn’t supposed to be on shift until midday. Unfortunately, his alarm didn’t go off and when he awoke to find out it was twenty to twelve he yelped a couple of choice swear words and dashed about his apartment, cleaning himself and getting dressed as quickly as humanly possible. However, he did make sure that he looked good just in case...

He checked in the mirror on the way out.

 _Hot damn_. Totally acceptable.

“So much for being a respectable boss,” Yvette quipped as he entered the kitchen at a minute to twelve. She stirred the soup and added some spice. “Cutting it a bit close, aren’t we?”

Grabbing a spoon, Rhys dipped it into the soup and moaned as the taste filled his mouth. “Excuse me,” he replied, swallowing the mouthful. “I could fire you for giving me lip.”

At this, Yvette shoved him out of the kitchen and told him to get lost. He giggled and entered the semi-busy café, only to spy a laughing Jack leaning against the counter, a piece of paper in his hand and a distraught Sasha at the end of his gaze. They were arguing about something, that much was clear. Rhys was very glad he’d made sure to look decent.

“It’ll kill you!” Sasha hissed, both hands flat against the surface. “What are you, five?”

Jack noticed that Rhys had entered the room. He whistled.

“Ooh, damn boy! Lookin’ good! If you were a fruit you’d be a _fine_ apple.”

“Don’t change the subject, Jack!” Sasha snapped, clicking her fingers to get back his attention. Rhys rolled his eyes at Jack’s awful line as he joined Sasha behind the counter, yet he couldn’t help smiling about it.

“What’s the problem?” he asked innocently, flicking through receipts and glancing up at Jack through his lashes. He always enjoyed how doing that made Jack subconsciously bite his lip and shift positions.

Sasha took a deep breath. “So he comes in, right? Starts ordering off drinks for his tattoo lot. He gets to this drink order, right? _Six_ sugars.”

 _“What_.”

“So I ask him who that’s for. Ask him who’s wishing a swift death from diabetes.”

“Christ.”

“Guess who it is?”

“Who?”

Sasha jerked her thumb at Jack. “This asshole.”

Rhys turned on Jack, slamming his fists on the counter. “ _Six_ sugars? What the hell?”

“I didn’t think it was allowed for baristas to tell customers how to take their coffee.” Jack grinned wolfishly, leaning further across the counter. “What’s the issue? So what if I like it hot and...” He licked his lips, looking Rhys up and down, “...downright delicious.”

Rhys felt his ears burning. Sasha stepped in between them, oblivious as to Rhys’ red face.

“Well,” she said with a sniff, “not my fault if you get a billion cavities.” With that, she began making the orders that Jack must have previously listed off. The man himself rested his elbows on the counter and his chin on his knuckles, smirking at Rhys.

“How do you take your coffee, kiddo? Black as your soul?”

For this, Rhys smacked him on the arm. “ _No._ It’s a secret.” It wasn’t really. Rhys just wanted to be as annoying as Jack.

Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “A secret? Huh. How _mysterious._ That on your secret menu then?”

“We don’t have a secret menu,” Rhys replied with a smile, stapling some receipts.

Gasping, Jack dramatically placed a hand on his chest. “What? You’re a café and you don’t have a _secret_ menu?”

“Nope,” said Rhys matter-of-factly. “No secret menu. Just the regular menu up there. Which we _don’t,_  by the way, recommend adding six sugars to.”

“Well, perhaps you might think about a secret menu.” Jack spread his hands out in the air. “Adds to the allure.”

Rhys sighed. “What have I told you about sticking your nose in my business?”

“Heh, maybe you’ve mentioned a little somethin’, somethin’.” Jack glanced at Sasha, who was focused on the coffees, then back at Rhys. “But can you blame me? I love to get all up in your business, Rhysie.”

Rhys stepped back, clutching the prep area behind him. Jack only winked and headed down to the end of the counter to begin packing up the coffees.

Rhys focused on his breathing.

Jack was going to be the death of him.

*

When Thursday rolled around, it passed horrifically slowly. Jack didn’t come in for his afternoon coffee, so by closing time Rhys was on edge and itching to see him.  

“You’ve been funny all day,” Fiona mused as she unloaded the dishwasher. “Everything okay?”

“Mmm. I have a tattoo session tonight.”

“Oooooh.” Sasha's head popped out from the kitchen. “With _Jack_?”

Rhys tried to hide his smile. “Perhaps.”

“Man, you two are so gonna bang. There’s no argument. It’s just gonna happen.”

At this, Rhys balked. _“Fiona.”_

Fiona shrugged. “What? Don’t you see the way he looks at you?”

“I-“

“And the way he flirts with you every second of every day?” Sasha added.

“Yes but-“

“And how you blush every time you _see_ him?” Yvette placed a tray of clean bowls on the side. “It’s definitely going to happen.”

“Shut _up,_ ” Rhys whined. “Just...keep out of my business.”

“Oh but we _love_ to get all up in your business, Rhysie,” Fiona sing-songed, dancing around him. “Oh kiddo, you’re just the prettiest fineapple in the fruit bowl. So sweet and downright _delicious_.” Her hands blocked Rhys’ that were coming in to attack her. “Oh Rhysie, pumpkin, don’t lose your rag. I promise I’ll smile and make you weak at the knees _again._ ”

“FIONA!”

*

At half past seven, Rhys was running upstairs to his apartment. He showered and used his prettiest shower gel and shampoo. Afterwards, he applied his fanciest aftershave and tugged on the tightest jeans he owned and his trusty black v-neck. Upon drying and combing his hair, he was ready. He rolled his sleeves to the elbows.

It felt like he’d just prepared himself for a date.

Was that what this was?

Potentially?

Ignoring the stirring sensation in his gut, Rhys made his way downstairs and plucked the sandwiches Yvette had made earlier from the fridge. He made two coffees: one cappuccino and one latte, the former a gross, sugary obscenity. Sticking the keys to the café in his back pocket, Rhys collected up what he needed. He planned to dump the food next door and then come back to lock up.

What he hadn’t planned for was placing his hand on the door handle of Helios and seeing Jack hugging a girl and kissing her cheek, rubbing her back. Rhys let go of the handle. Who was that? How dare Jack flirt with him all week and then...

And then...

Rhys could have walked away. Instead, he barged in, causing the two inside to jump and face him.

“Hi Jack! I’m here!” He waved. ”For my _session_.”

“Rhys-”

The girl tilted her head to the side. “Oh so this is Rhys?”

“Yep,” Rhys snapped, glowering at Jack. “That’s me.”

The girl turned to Jack, a strange look on her face. “Is he alright?”

Jack patted her on the shoulder. “He’s fine, Angel.”

Oh, so Jack had a pet name for her too? Great. Fantastic. Rhys was over the moon to have met this person.

“Rhys, this is my daughter, Angel.”

Rhys was also a _massive, presumptuous_ dick.

“...Oh.”

Angel was gorgeous. She was tall and slim, with dark eyes and hair that was shaved on one side of her head. She walked up and offered Rhys her hand.

“Hey. Nice to meet you, Rhys. Dad’s told me _all_ about you.”

“Angel-“

“About your café and your friends and how you make the best coffee in the world. Also about your attitude and your bu-”

“ _Angel_!”

Angel turned back to her father, Rhys left reeling.

“Love ya, pops. See you...” She glanced back at Rhys and then back to Jack, “... _later._ ”

With that, she scooted past Rhys and out the door. Both Jack and Rhys stood in silence for a while, not quite knowing what to say.

“My attitude, huh?” Rhys questioned eventually, causing Jack to laugh softly and beckon him to the back of the shop.

“Yeah, you’re quite the firecracker, pumpkin.”

“Oh am I?” Rhys folded his arms and followed Jack through. When he got to the centre of the room, Jack turned around.

“So. Have you thought about where you want it?”

Swallowing, Rhys gestured to his right side. “Um...down here?”

“Perfect,” Jack replied, not missing a beat. “Let me set the bed up so you can get comfortable while I print off a couple of copies so we can size it up, see what works best.”

Rhys just silently agreed, watching Jack flit about before he put the bed in the right position. He went to climb on but Jack grabbed his arm.

“You’re gonna wanna remove that sweater, Rhysie. Can’t tat through material.”

This was it. Rhys had to now remove his sweater in front of Jack and Jack would probably take one look at him and think ‘ew gross’ and it would all be over. They’d just be neighbours and whatever this “thing” was that was happening between them would stop. Jack turned to the computer, which Rhys took as the perfect opportunity to rip his v-neck off and jump onto the bed. He turned onto his side and covered his chest with his arms. Jack spent a few moments printing before turning to face Rhys. Rhys noted the lip bite, the raised eyebrow, the rise and fall of his chest.

Yep.

He was definitely grossed out.

“So those are your other tats?” Jack asked, walking forwards and just pulling Rhys’ arms apart to get a closer look at him.

There was nothing left to hide.

Rhys’ full torso and chest were on show.

It wasn’t that Rhys was _chubby._ He was alright but he still wished he was better. He’d never particularly enjoyed being shirtless around people.

“These are great. The artist who did these did a great job.” Jack hand ghosted over his chest, following the lines of the tattoo there. Rhys also had a small rose on his hip which Jack picked up on almost instantly.

“Oh wow. What is _that_.” Jack prodded the rose hard.

“Ow! Hey!”

“Why do you have a rose, Rhysie?”

“It’s to symbolise my mom, thanks.”

“Your mom dead?”

“...No?”

“Then why the fuck do you have a rose?” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, kiddo.”

“Hey, if you’re gonna be a bitch I’ll leave.”

Jack gave him a shit-eating grin. “Okay then. Go ahead.” He gestured at the door. “Exit’s that way.”

“...Just shut up and tattoo me.”

Rolling his eyes and smiling, Jack produced the printouts. “Let’s see what we’ve got here. Okay, so I printed off a larger one and a smaller one. You choose which one you prefer.” Jack held them both against Rhys’ side, his fingertips brushing Rhys’ skin. He flushed when he saw goosebumps rising where Jack had touched. He prayed that Jack didn’t notice.

“The...larger one. It fits my side better.”

Clicking his tongue, Jack stood. “Pumpkin, that’s _just_ what I was thinking. Perhaps you’re not at a loss for composition.” Jack spun around as he walked away. “Just colour.”

“Hey!”  
Jack sniggered as he applied some rubbing alcohol to a cotton ball. Wordlessly, he placed his hand on Rhys’ hip and pushed him into the right position. Rhys sucked in a breath. Jack went about cleaning and shaving the area before cleaning again.  
“Let’s see how this baby will look.” Jack moved his chair around so that he was behind Rhys’ back. He applied the transfer with some pressure, before peeling it off and stepping back. “Well, looks beautiful if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna look?”

Rhys bounded to his feet and raced over to the mirror like an excitable two year old. Turning, he caught sight of the tattoo outline and gasped. It looked fantastic already.

“Jack, it’s going to be perfect.”

When Jack didn’t reply, Rhys looked to see what he was doing. Jack was leaning back in his chair, arms folded, staring straight at Rhys.

“...Jack?”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Jack replied, blinking. “Mind’s elsewhere. Just uh...something Angel told me earlier. Anyway, get back over here.” Jack slapped the bed. “Of course it’s gonna be perfect, it’s by me.” Rhys clambered back onto the bed and got back into position. “Oh, and Rhysie?”

“Yes, Jack?”

“This is...you’re...you’re prepared for the ribs part, right? I mean, it hurts.”

Rhys rolled back to face him. “Yes, I’m well aware. I’ve been mentally preparing myself all day.”

“Good,” Jack said with a smirk. “Then let’s get started.”

*

Jack hadn’t been lying about the pain. Rhys tried his _hardest_ not to writhe around, but it was difficult when the needle buzzed right across the bones of his ribcage.

“Ah, fuck,” he muttered, biting his lip. Jack had been oddly silent since the most part of the pain had begun. “Fancy taking it easier on me?”

“If I took it any easier I’d be tattooing the air, sweetcheeks. Stop complaining and suck it up.”

Rhys would have bit back at him if it hadn’t been for the distracting new nickname. He loved all the little names Jack called him. He wondered if Jack did that to everyone.

“Hey, Jack?”

“Mmm?”

“Ow - argh - How long have you owned Helios?”

“Uhh...seven years next January. How long’ve you been in the business of coffee beans?”

“Since I was eight-oh fuck-teen. Worked as a barista in a local cafe. Took a job as a manager. _Ow_. Saved enough to get my own cafe. It did really - shit - well but we needed bigger and better so _fuck me_ now we’re here.”

Jack didn’t reply to that. Instead he squeezed Rhys’ hip just a little bit tighter than before as he inked a particularly tender part of Rhys’ side. At the pain, Rhys moaned loudly. Jack’s breathing hitched. Rhys noticed.

 _Well that’s interesting,_ Rhys thought with a grin. He waited to moan again until he actually needed to moan from the pain, not wanting to seem obvious, but once again Jack seemed to respond similarly.

“Well aren’t you a noisy boy,” Jack quipped, but there was no humour in his tone. Instead his voice came out rougher than Rhys had ever heard it.

“Am I?” Rhys replied softly, feigning ignorance. “Sorry, Jack.”

Jack coughed. “Don’t be sorry. Let it out if you need to.”

Rhys took that as an invitation. He moaned as much as was necessary. Jack’s grip on his hip squeezed in the rhythm of his moans.

“Shhh, Rhysie,” Jack eventually managed through what sounded like a tight throat. “Only about another twenty to twenty five minutes to go.”

Rhys went to reply but suddenly the pain was so bad that he let out his almightiest moan yet.

“Holy shit, Rhys. Shut _up_.”

“But didn’t you say that I could - argh - let it out?”

“Yes but-”

“Well then, let me let it _ouuuut_.” The pain spiked again and Rhys curled his fists tighter. It was one of the worst pains he’d ever experienced, other than of course being in a car accident that cost him his arm. Even his high-quality, shiny cybernetic arm couldn’t make up for that pain.

It continued like this for a good fifteen minutes, before Jack announced that he was done.

“There. _Perfect_.”

Rhys breathed heavily. “It’s finished?”

“Yep. Go check it out, pumpkin. I’ll...be right back.”

Jack was gone before Rhys could get up from the bed and turn around. Shrugging it off, Rhys gingerly let himself down off of the bed and padded over to the mirror. He tilted his body and gasped. It had been two hours of solid work, pain and Jack’s hands all over his torso but finally it was done and it was _beautiful._ It perfectly matched with his neck tattoo, and Jack had even incorporated some designs from his chest tattoo into the final piece. Rhys could have cried at how pretty it was. Rocking on the balls of his feet, he waited for Jack with a grin. The minutes ticked by. Jack was nowhere to be seen. Finally, Jack reappeared looking flustered.

“Hey, kiddo. Sorry about that.”

“It’s...okay...everything alright? You look, um?”

Jack waved his hand in dismissal. “Yeah yeah. All good. Just had to um. Make a phone call. Yeah. So!” He clapped his hands together, confident persona reemerging. “You happy?”

Rhys spun around to look back in the mirror. “It’s wonderful. Better than I could have ever imagined.”

“Just like your first day in your cafe.” Jack was suddenly at his side, arms folded, nudging him with his elbow.

Rhys desperately wanted to lean against him. Put his head on Jack’s shoulder. Perhaps lean up and…

But Jack turned and walked away. He picked up his phone from the side and pointed at it.

“Can I take a shot of it? For my portfolio?”

Rhys crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. The feeling in his stomach just wasn’t going away. He knew this feeling. He’d had it all too often. Jack getting closer wasn’t helping.

“Sure. Yeah. Of course.”

“Just lift your arm up.”

Rhys did as he was told. Jack took the photo and tucked his phone into his back pocket. He then cleaned the tattoo with another cotton ball and fixed it up with a bandage.

“There. Now, come back to the front of the shop when you’re all decent again.”

With that, Jack left him. Rhys was just putting on his sweater when something hit him.

Hadn’t Jack said he had been on a phonecall?

Then _why_ had his phone still been in the back of the shop with Rhys?

What had Jack been _doing?_

Rhys had an idea but of course that couldn’t be _possible_. Jack wouldn’t...No.

Rhys was being stupid and pathetic and delusional.

He made his way back out to the front, pulling out his wallet as he walked. He joined Jack at the front desk, who was pouring over some paperwork.

“So how much do I owe you?”

At this, Jack looked up from whatever he was hunched over writing. His expression was dumbstruck. He then threw his head back and began roaring with laughter.

“Oh pumpkin, you don’t owe me shit. Your free coffee and sandwiches are enough.”

“But Jack they were a thanks for-”

Jack held his hand up to silence Rhys. It worked. “Rhysie, baby, don’t worry about it. Think of it as ‘neighbourliness’. You can get a tattoo here anytime.”

“Neighbourliness, huh?” Rhys crossed his arms, grinning. “That’s what it is?”

For the first time since meeting, Rhys saw Jack’s ears go red. A pink blush dappled across his cheeks. He straightened up, placing some paperwork in front of Rhys.

“Just sign the documents at the bottom. Remember to moisturize the area regularly. You know the rest.”  
When Rhys left, the image of Jack being caught out was at the forefront of his brain. He smiled to himself for the entire walk back up to his room, where he slumped down on the bed and ran his hand across the bandage at his side.

Jack might just be the death of him, but if he played his cards right, he could _definitely_ be the death of Jack.  


	5. Awkward Encounters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO MANY BEAUTIFUL COMMENTS <3 THANK YOU, THEY MAKE MY DAYS BRIGHTER.
> 
> I LOVE writing this, can you tell?

When coincidence befell Rhys that Jack got into the shower at almost the same time as him, it was not an unpleasant experience whatsoever. Being that the walls were so thin, he heard the squeaking tap turn and the water blast out on the other side of the wall as he brushed his teeth one particular November morning. He had been planning on continuing the morning ritual by hopping in the shower, but for a moment he was stunned by the image of Jack being naked barely inches away from him. If he could reach through the wall right now...

Instead, Rhys reached down almost instantly and grasped himself, half-hard from the mere thought of real, naked, _handsome_ Jack. All he wanted to do – all he’d been _wanting_ to do for two months – was have Jack shove him against a wall already and kiss him till he couldn’t breathe. Jerking faster, Rhys sighed into his own touch and braced himself against the wall beside the sink. The feeling of the cold surface was bested by a feeling of euphoria as Rhys pumped himself with building vigour, groaning quietly threw his teeth as he tried to imagine _Jack_ wrapped behind him, his hand replacing Rhys’ own.

Despite the promise Rhys had made himself regarding Jack on the night of his tattoo, his nerves had gotten the better of him and he hadn’t made a single step towards ‘Operation-Get-Jack-On-His-Knees’. Whilst the thought itself was utterly glorious, the reality of it was that Jack’s flirtations were just _Jack_. Through many a side-eye observation, Rhys had seen how Jack behaved around everyone else. The confidence; the _smile_ ; the occasional pet name...Rhys had gradually felt more and more stupid to think of himself as anything “special”. Also, after the tattoo session, Rhys began to see Jack less and less frequently. More often than not, Janey or Nisha would come into the café to purchase the drinks. Apparently Jack was ‘very busy’ and ‘completely booked up’. Rhys hadn’t really been surprised; after Jack’s nifty handwork on his own skin, he could see why Helios was so popular. Working next to a tattoo parlour was particularly great when every time a client left the place, they’d come in for a coffee and show off the tattoo with prompting from at least one of the Helios team. Rhys had seen a tiger, a koi carp sleeve, a couple of tribal tattoos, a cubism-style owl and a large rose across someone’s lower back. When asked, apparently Jack had tattooed it.

Rhys had grinned widely at that.

Presently, Rhys was coming close to the edge. One hand dropped and found the edge of the sink, clutching onto it for dear life. His breathing was heavy and ragged, with Jack’s occasional humming drifting into his ears between each loud breath. As Rhys came all over his hand and the tiled wall, he moaned noisily. The sound echoed around the bathroom walls. It was only when he came out of his stupor that Rhys realised what he had done.

Jack’s humming had stopped.

There was less movement on the other side of the wall.

Ohhhhh _shit._

*

“So,” Jack said with a smirk, leaning against the counter with his hands clasped. “How has _your_ morning been?”

Rhys continued to clean the surface, not meeting Jack’s eyes.

“Fine thanks. Busy enough.”

“Heh, I’ll bet.” Jack winked and grinned knowingly.

At this, Rhys rolled his eyes and sighed, pushing down the feeling of complete embarrassment as best he could. He knew, however, that there was pink dappling his cheeks which he simply could not hide. Jack raised an eyebrow as Rhys turned on him.

“Can I _help_ you?”

“I don’t know, _can_ you?”

Rhys slammed the cloth down on the side and crossed his arms. “Jack.”

“Yes, Rhysie?”

Rhys narrowed his eyes. “Do you have something to say to me?”

Jack wiggled his eyebrows as he stepped back, stretching his arms above his head. He shook his head. “Nope.”

“Then order your damned coffees.”

Jack ordered, Rhys made. Jack was silent until he picked up the coffees and thanked Rhys. Rhys breathed a sigh of relief as Jack walked to the door, but almost collapsed in on himself when Jack shrieked out a raucous moan and a cackle as he exited the building.

Rhys could have _died_.

*

A few weeks later, when the snow began to fall in early December, the Helios crew and the Pandora’s Box team may or may not have been huge children one particularly quiet morning, when the snow was deep enough to have a snowball fight. Yvette had agreed to stay in the café and Wilhelm in the parlour, but the rest of them were in the park across the street, every man for themselves.

“You’re such a shit shot,” Athena barked at Fiona, riling the dark-skinned woman even more.

“You wanna say that to my face, asshat?”

The two women giggled as they ran past Rhys’ hiding spot, firing snowball after snowball at each other and anyone else they came across. Rhys was very chuffed with his hiding spot behind the trunk of a large evergreen. No one had seen him for-

“Don’t get too comfortable, kiddo!” came a shout from his left. Rhys made the mistake of turning his face to the noise and was confronted by a large snowball to the face.

“Jack!” he screeched in anguish, wiping the snow away. “You fucking ass.”

Jack cackled as he dropped down beside Rhys, who had slid to the base of the tree.

“We still on for tonight?” Jack asked quietly, pushing against Rhys’ shoulder with his own. Rhys went to say yes but just as he opened his mouth, Jack shoved a handful of snow against his face, some of which found its way into his mouth. Jack sprang to his feet, howling with laughter as he backed away.

“Man, you’ll never know if some of that was _yellow_ snow!”

At this, Rhys gagged. He stuck his middle fingers up at Jack and gathered up some snow.

That asshole was gonna get it right in his clap trap.

*

When they were all tuckered out, the group bundled back into Pandora’s Box for body-warming hot cocoa. Rhys’ freezing hands shook as he tried to make them, all the while Jack was mocking him from the other end of the counter. Rhys shot him a few choice words in response, but both men met each other’s eyes with a smile as their little crowd fell into peals of laughter about something or another.

Rhys dished around the cocoa and they sat, snuggled into the armchairs, falling into comfortable chit-chat. The neighbours had made quick friendships, with Athena, Janey, Fiona and Sasha getting on like a house on fire whilst Nisha and Yvette had struck up some kind of tolerance of each other. Was it friendship? Rhys couldn’t be sure. Yet they had found something special; as Rhys looked around at the group, he realised he didn’t need cocoa to warm him. Jack patted his thigh, sending shockwaves up his spine.

“It’s great, isn’t it?” he mused, sipping his drink. “I mean, this.” He motioned at the others who were lost in conversation and laughter. Yvette moved to serve a customer, but Nisha merely joined in with the others whilst Jack and Rhys watched on.

“Mmm,” Rhys hummed in agreement, focusing more on the hand still on his knee. Jack was still watching the others. Biting his lip hard, fearing but ignoring the worst, Rhys allowed his own hand to slip down and come to rest on top of Jack’s. The touch made Jack jump and Rhys was convinced he’d gone too far – that Jack _must_ have just forgotten his hand was there, that was all. However, a familiar dappling of pink arose on Jack’s cheeks and he made no effort to pull away. Instead, he curled his fingers around Rhys’.

Oh boy.

 

*

The day rolled by, with each team heading back to work gradually and slowly. None of them wanted to return to their jobs, yet being “mature, upstanding adults” meant they pretty much had to. Rhys had a tattoo session with Jack that evening (because he wanted a _tattoo_ ) and the hours began to trickle by the closer the clock hands got to his session time.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you?” Fiona sighed, sipping her tea as she locked the cafe door for the night. “A watched pot never boils.”

Rhys ignored her, continuing to glance at the clock continuously as he cleaned the tables.

He couldn’t wait for Jack to get his hands on him again.

*

Last time, Rhys and Jack had completely forgotten about the coffees and sandwiches. This time, Rhys made sure to plan ahead. He ordered Chinese takeout to Helios, which arrived just as he got to the door of the place himself. He paid and thanked the delivery driver before making his way inside.

“Jack?” he called out as he walked down the hall.

“In here.” Jack was at his station, hunched over it like it was in need of his protection. He was sketching furiously, but paused and turned, nose in the air. “...Did you bring takeout?”

Self-satisfied, Rhys held the bag up with a smile. “I remembered you said you liked kung pow chicken.”

The look on Jack’s face was indecipherable then. He appeared to be caught somewhere between confusion, happiness and awe.

“You really are something else, pumpkin,” Jack managed eventually, patting the counter beside him. “Come and put it down over here. We can dig in before we start the session.”

Rhys did as he was asked whilst Jack grabbed plates and cutlery from the kitchen. Before long, they were both sitting on the floor beside one another, tucking into rice and spicy chicken with gusto. Rhys tilted his head back against the cabinet, sighing.

“I’ve been thinking about my specialised Christmas menu,” he announced, chewing thoughtfully. “I don’t want us to be making drinks too similar to Starbucks and the like, but it’s hard because Christmas flavours are so particular, y’know?”

Jack was silent for a while. “Well, think about it this way. A guy could take a tattoo design to one parlour, get the tattoo done and be happy with it. However, if he’d chosen another path and gone to a _different_ artist, he could have been even happier. So I guess what I’m saying is, if you’re making drinks with the same ingredients, you could still be making it ten times better than the chain coffee places.” He took a mouthful of rice and smiled.

Rhys considered his analogy.

It was a very good analogy.

“Huh,” he replied. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Finishing off his plate, Jack climbed to his feet. “Shall we?” he asked, placing a hand out for Rhys. Rhys took it immediately, feeling a rush course through his veins at the touch. Jack pulled Rhys to his feet, taking his plate and placing it behind him, caging him in against the counter for a brief moment. Their chests had touched, their arms had brushed...Rhys was a mess inside.

And outside, apparently.

Glancing down, he noticed the growth in his pants.

“Shit,” he muttered, turning to face the counter to begin tidying up.

“No leave it, it can be done later.”

“I’d rather do it now,” Rhys replied, not looking.

Suddenly, Jack was there at his side. Rhys was sweating now. His anxiety levels were peaking. If he turned away from the counter, Jack would almost _certainly_ see his “problem.” Yet instead of letting his nerves show, Rhys feigned a sweet smile. “Why don’t you go set up the bed and the print outs. I’ll take these to the kitchen.”

Jack stared at him hard for a second, eyebrow raised. Then, he shrugged and nodded, walking away. Rhys, however, made a dash for the kitchen and shoved the plates in the sink. He clutched the edge of the cupboard below until his knuckles were white as he willed his pathetic dick to settle down. Sighing, he ran the tap and threw some cold water onto his face. This helped; Rhys waited a few moments before remerging into Jack’s immediate area. They crashed into one another as Rhys stepped out of the door – Rhys falling into Jack’s arms like something from a rom-com.

“I was just coming to find you,” Jack chuckled, Rhys’ hands pressed flush against his chest. Rhys blinked up at him. “Thought you might have fallen down the plughole.” Jack’s thumbs rubbed his arms in rhythm with one another. His adam’s apple bobbed with a loud swallow which instantly brought a red flush to his cheeks. Rhys daren’t move. He didn’t know what the right choice to make was. Should he...? Dare he...?

Rhys began to lean and close his eyes when Jack’s phone began to ring from his pocket.

“Oh shit, that’s Angel’s tone.” Jack gazed down at Rhys, unmoving. “I should get that.”

Rhys’ lashes rose and fell slowly, eyes locked on Jack’s. “Yeah, maybe you should.”

And with that, Jack was gone. He walked away and round the corner as he put his phone to his ear. Rhys took to clearing away the rest of the takeout and trying very hard not to think what could have just happened.

As he finished packing up the boxes, Jack came storming back round the corner, eyes shining and brow furrowed. He looked genuinely _terrifying_.

“Jack?”

Jack didn’t reply. He routed round his station, pulling out keys and his jacket and a phone charger.

“Jack, answer me. What’s happened?”

“Fucking asshole drunk drivers think they can get away with _this_ ,” he growled under his breath. Rhys swallowed. He hoped Jack didn’t mean…

“Jack, is Angel okay?

Jack spun around, grabbing Rhys’ by the collar and dragging him close to his face.

“What do you think, Rhys? You think I’d be talking about anything else right now?” Jack shoved him away, shoving his phone in his back pocket. Rhys tried not to be hurt by the rough treatment. Something very bad had happened.

“Where are you going? Let me drive you.”

“Fuck off. Go home.”

That was the last straw. He wouldn’t be treated like shit.

“No Jack, fuck _you_.” Rhys shoved his shoulder. Jack glared. “You’re not in a fit state to drive. Tell me where you need to go.”

“Rhys-”

“JACK! SHUT THE FUCK UP AND TELL ME WHERE YOU NEED TO GO.”

At his sudden outburst, Jack was taken aback. The anguish melted away for a fleeting moment as he spoke.

“The hospital,” he whispered, shoulders drooping and head hanging. “My baby’s been hit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a terrible person.
> 
> Hate me.


	6. A Song of Ice and Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the end of the last chapter. Hopefully this one will make up for it :3
> 
> xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As Rhys’ old banger of a car raced through the city, Jack muttered all sorts about how he would kill the culprits the moment he got his hands on them. Rhys was simultaneously impressed and horrified at how... _imaginative_ Jack could be. Upon approaching the hospital, the blue lights of a passing ambulance turned Rhys’ stomach. Jack hadn’t let on what the person on the phone had said, but from Jack’s behaviour Rhys could only assume that Angel was in a bad way. They parked and ran, dodging people and darting around cars until they burst into A &E, Jack slamming the doors open so hard they shuddered to a close behind him.

“Where’s my daughter?!” he roared at the receptionist, gripping the desk until his knuckles were white. “I need to see my daughter _now_!”

The receptionist – clearly trained for these kinds of situations – calmly asked Jack whom it was he was looking for.

“Angel Lawrence,” Jack spat, eyes narrowing.

The receptionist was silent for a moment, glancing down at something in her hands. “She’s down the hall and to the right, sir. Your daughter is-“

Jack did not wait to hear anything further. He was gone in a flash.

*

Vaughn’s hand curled around his arm, squeezing gently. His thumb drew caring circles on his friend’s skin, a reassuring smile on his face in an attempt at comfort. Rhys on the other hand was lost in thought, tapping the side of his cup lightly.

It wasn’t busy in the café today: Rhys and Vaughn were the only people sitting down. Slowly, Vaughn leant forward.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Lip rolling under his teeth, Rhys closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. “The fire burnt the entirety of her left side. She’ll...” He swallowed hard. “She’ll be scarred for the rest of her life.”

It was the first time Rhys had spoken since coming down from his room. It was now Vaughn’s turn not to speak. He didn’t know what quite to say.

“She was just a _kid_ ,” Rhys growled, squeezing the cup so hard the handle broke in his palm. It sliced through his skin but Rhys barely seemed to notice. “Barely seventeen. So much freaking _pain_.”

“Rhys, your fucking hand, man-“

“To hell with my hand!” he screeched, suddenly standing. The customers at the till jumped and glanced upon the situation with wary eyes. “A girl almost got burnt to death last night! Fuck my stupid hand.” He waved his hand in the air, blood dripping onto the floor. With that, Rhys stomped off, heading towards his apartment. Vaughn trailed behind, careful to keep his distance. Rhys left the door open, which appeased Vaughn’s notion that he _should_ be following him.

He found Rhys curled up on his bed, towel wrapped around his hand. Vaughn clambered on and lay down facing his best friend.

“Hey bro,” he whispered, reaching out and pressing the towel against the wounds, “I’m sorry you had to see bad shit last night.”

Rhys’ lip quivered as tears began falling from his eyes onto the sheets. With a small gasp and quick thinking, Vaughn pulled Rhys into his chest.

*

A week passed. Jack was absent from Helios and didn’t return any of Rhys’ calls and messages. Every day at ten, one of the Pandora’s Box crew would take round free coffees to the tattooists as a gesture of concern. They’d exchange pleasantries and announcements that they also still had no idea how Angel was doing. It was only when the two-week mark was looming that Jack reappeared in all of their lives. Rhys was delivering the coffees as usual when Nisha gave him a look that he understood instantly. Nodding and taking a deep breath, he set the coffees down with Nisha and peered around the corner, spotting Jack hunched over his station.

A mixture of emotions washed over Rhys: despair, happiness, fear, emptiness. Pushing these down, driven by something all-consuming and entirely unexplainable, Rhys stalked over to Jack and span his chair around so that they were facing one another. Jack did not have time to speak as Rhys pressed his lips against Jack’s hard, a hand on each cheek. Jack did nothing; he simply sat there, eyes wide and body rigid. Rhys let go, stepping back and breathing for the first time since he’d seen Jack in the flesh, staring Jack in the eyes.

Turning on his heel, he left as quick as he had come.

Jack did not follow.

*

“They were only first-degree burns,” Jack’s voice announced, leaning against the doorframe. Unsurprised by the sudden voice, Rhys continued drying the glass in his hands, eyebrows furrowed and gaze dead set on Jack’s. “She’s healing fast.”

“Well isn’t _that_ good to know,” Rhys hissed, placing the glass in its rightful position on the shelf. He heard Jack shift from behind him, footsteps getting louder as the man obviously crossed the closed café.

“Rhys, you have to understand that what my daughter went through was horrific. I’ve been at her bedside constantly, my focus entirely on her. I...I know I should have called.”

Rhys snapped around. “Yeah! Maybe you should’ve. Not me, but your “friends” in Helios. They’ve been scared shitless, Jack.”

Jack didn’t reply. Rhys continued drying.

He only stopped when he heard a sniff. Sucking in a breath, he turned. Jack’s eyes were shining and he was staring at the ceiling.

“She’s all I got, Rhysie.”

Rhys’ stomach dropped. Wordlessly, he rounded the counter and wrapped his arms around Jack. Jack coughed and buried his head against Rhys’ shoulder. The cybernetic man’s hand stroked his hair gently. He hoped this would at least begin to show Jack how wrong he was.

*

Every other evening, Rhys would take his notepad and laptop to Jack’s place to sit with Angel. He’d decided he’d help her take her mind off of her pain by allowing her to plan the Christmas party he was going to throw for the two neighbouring companies at Pandora’s Box. It was also a way for Jack to get back into the swing of work since Rhys could watch over Angel so that she wasn’t alone.

Angel had been over the moon to be asked for her help, and Rhys had been surprised by her imaginative ideas for decorations and food. They bonded quickly.

One evening, they were giggling over some rude Santa decorations for cakes when Jack walked in with glasses of juice.

“Should I be concerned?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. Rhys slammed the laptop lid shut, finished for the night anyway, and the two on the bed fell about laughing. Angel hissed at her wounds when she moved just a bit too much. Jack was immediately at her side, applying ointment he’d grabbed from her nightstand.

“Damnit, kiddo,” he grumbled, rubbing it in carefully. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Despite her damaged body, Angel’s face had been unscathed by the accident. She grinned.

“This Christmas Party is going to be awesome.”

“Mmm,” Jack replied, reapplying her bandages. “Well, we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

“Pssssht.” Rhys stood up and stretched. “Don’t doubt our ingenuity. We’re a dream team when it comes to party planning. We’ve even got the playlist down ready for some serious dancing.”

Jack chuckled. “I don’t dance, just so you know. Have fun dancing alone.”

Rhys was about to reply when he stopped, thinking. “...Do you _assume_ I meant dancing with _you_?”

At this, Jack’s ears burned red. Angel snorted.

“You guys are such nerds,” she announced, snuggling down under her sheets.

*

“No! Oh my god! Don’t put that there! Lower!” Apparently, Angel was not impressed with being stuck in a wheelchair, unable to get up and show Vaughn how hanging the Christmas lights was _supposed_ to be done. “Look, how can you seriously go to hang it there. It’s completely off.”

In the kitchen, Yvette, Sasha and Fiona were busy making the food. Rhys passed by, breathing in the gorgeous aromas and tasting what he could before he was batted away. Grinning, Rhys scarpered from the kitchen and joined Angel and Vaughn in the cafe.

“Vaughn, that’s um...an interesting way of hanging lights.”

Angel spun her head to look at him. “ _Finally_! Rhys, can you help this doofus out because I can’t.”

“Hey!” Vaughn turned on her, waving the lights in her face. “Don’t call me a doofus, doofus.”

“Children, children, please.” Rhys placed his hands together. “This is supposed to be a time of happiness, not fighting.”

“Well then,” Angel sniffed, smirking slyly, “tell this ass to use his _eyes_.”

Sighing, Rhys rolled _his_ eyes and smiled.

*

Jack’s Christmas sweater was _the_ most obscene thing Rhys had ever seen in his life. It was so vulgar and _so_ ugly. There were actual white pom poms dotted all over it.

“Dad, what the shit?” Angel rolled over as Jack entered the cafe, a box of champagne in hand.

Jack huffed a laugh. “I know, baby. I look _dashing_.” His eyes met Rhys’. “Where should I put these, pumpkin?”

Rhys ignored him. “That jumper is _heinous_.The invitation said smart-casual!”

“Heh, I know.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows. “I just wore it to piss you off.” With a wink, he placed the box on the counter and yanked the sweater over his head. Beneath it, he was wearing a dark blue shirt tucked into his jeans. It was also rolled up to the elbows. The collar was open by a few buttons.

Rhys swallowed.

“Woah. You kids did a great job. It’s amazing in here.”

It was true. Rhys was very proud. It looked like Santa’s grotto, just with a lot more booze. Jack turned back, leaning against the counter and smiling at Rhys. Rhys blinked before smiling back.

“You’re ass in those black jeans,” Jack murmured, leaning in, “looks fucking fantastic.”

“Waaaaaaaaaheyyyy!” Janey and Nisha yelled, bursting through the door with open, half-empty champagnes bottle in their hands.

“It’s time to PARTY!”

*

“You know, Jack,” Rhys slurred, slumping against Jack’s side. “I really *hic* think we’re going to be lifelong pals.” He grinned, throwing an arm over Jack’s waist.

“Pals, huh? That’s an interesting word.” Jack tucked his arm behind Rhys’ neck and pulled him closer.

Rhys was silent for a moment, thinking. “...I guess it _is_ an interesting word, if you thunk...if you _think_ about it.”

They were alone in the kitchen, sitting on the floor with their backs against the cupboards. Rhys had a plate of cookies on his lap, and both “drunken idiots” (as Angel had called them) were stuffing their faces.

Jack bit into a cookie. “I couldn’t have wished for a better neighbour, by the way.”

Rhys turned his head, smiling. “Me neither. You’re perfect.” He kissed Jack’s nose and climbed to his feet, almost falling over multiple times in the process. “We should go back into the...into the room. In there. With everyone.”

Jack swayed as he stood, clutching the counter to keep him standing. He hadn’t gotten this drunk in a _long_ time. They shuffled out to the hall, but something caught Jack’s eye. What it _was_ was a golden opportunity. He grabbed Rhys’ arm and pulled him in. Rhys squeaked, suddenly pressed against Jack’s chest. His mouth fell into a small ‘o’.

Gesturing with his eyes, Jack drew Rhys’ attention to the mistletoe hanging above them. A harsh red blush instantly appeared across Rhys’ features.

“Jack-”

“It _is_ in the rules of Christmas,” Jack said before pulling Rhys into a closed-mouth kiss. Rhys was past the point of holding back. He opened his mouth and drank Jack in, tasting the champagne on his lips and the chocolate on his tongue. Jack took no time in responding just as eagerly. He grasped at Rhys’ hair and gripped his cheeks like they were the last two people on Earth. Rhys wanted nothing more than for the moment to never end. That was all he could register.

He was _so_ drunk.

*

The headache and sickness that followed the Christmas party was honestly the most atrocious thing Rhys had ever had to face in his life. He’d woken up in his own bed, with Fiona on one side and Sasha on the other. Yvette was curled up at the end. Rhys slid over Sasha to get to the bathroom in time to throw up in the toilet. As he sat back on the cold, tiled floor, wiping his mouth, his head spun. It was only after a few moments of sitting in silence that he realised he had absolutely no recollection of the night before.

All that planning...all that preparation.

He’d bet a billion dollars he’d made himself look like a complete ass.


	7. The Cure for a Hangover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BROS YOUR COMMENTS MAKE MY LIFE
> 
> Also here it is  
> The one we've all been waiting for
> 
> This one's for all you sinners

Jack groaned as he shifted in bed, rolling onto his side with a loud huff. His head was throbbing just behind his left eye and his mouth was as dry as the damned Sahara. Cracking open an eyelid, he spied Nisha sprawled across the floor with a pillow and a blanket. She yawned, shifted and rolled over.

“Fuck,” Jack breathed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Fuck.”

“You can say that again,” Nisha muttered.

“What time did we fall in last night?”

Nisha clucked her tongue. “About four thirty. It’s...uh...one sec...eleven now. Merry Christmas Eve, asshole.”

Jack managed a chuckle but almost immediately regretted it due to the pain that seared across his forehead. “Merry Christmas Eve, darling.”

Sucking in a breath, he made an effort to climb out of bed. He needed coffee, stat. As he crossed the room to his door, memories of the party came flooding back. The dancing, the champagne, the games, the kiss

Jack stopped dead in his tracks, fingers curled around the door handle.

The _kiss_.

He’d kissed Rhys and Rhys had kissed him _back_. A feeling of warmth erupted in Jack’s stomach, spreading through him like vines wrapping around his very soul. He grinned to himself, gripping the handle harder.

Rhys had kissed him _back_.

*

It only took the time between exiting his bedroom, crossing the living room and entering the kitchen for Jack to decide that he shouldn’t be _so_ happy about what had happened. They’d been drunk. Rhys could have kissed anyone back last night, judging by the state Jack could recall he was in. The joyous emotions he’d been feeling quickly dwindled into despair as he sat at the kitchen table. Wilhelm was at the stove, frying bacon.

“Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,” the gruff man laughed.  “You look like shit.”

Instead of biting back as he usually would, Jack placed his head in his hands and groaned. He heard something being placed down before him. The gorgeous aroma of coffee hit his nose, but it wasn’t enough to draw him from the thoughts of ‘I don’t understand what’s going on between me and Rhys.’

Wilhelm’s firm hand on his shoulder made him jump. “Drink the damned coffee, Jackie. It’s good for you. It’ll at least make you feel less shit, but perhaps not _look_ less shit.”

“Oh well _thanks_ ,” Jack drawled in reply, snatching up the coffee mug and draining it within seconds. “Yeah, that’s _completely_ bettered my mood. I feel fantastic. Great. Excellent.”

Rolling his eyes, Wilhelm turned back to the stove and began to make a bacon sandwich. “Ketchup?”

“Yeah, smother it.” Jack placed his head on the table. The surface was cool against his hot skin, a welcome relief to his ever-growing headache. They were silent until Wilhelm placed the food before Jack and sat in the chair to his left.

“So it’s your mood that’s bad, not the hangover?”

Jack sat up and bit into the sandwich, moaning as the taste – the beautiful, glorious taste – filled his mouth. “Both.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Jack closed his eyes and munched his way through his sandwich. Wilhelm didn’t press him any further; he sat there and sipped his coffee, waiting to see if Jack would answer. The clock on the wall ticked by, the rhythm of each hand moving joined by the sounds of Jack chewing.

“How do you...how do you _tell_ if someone likes you?”

Wilhelm sighed and chuckled, finishing off the last dregs of coffee from his mug. He placed it on the table and looked Jack dead in the eyes.

“When they walk through the door of your tattoo parlour after you’ve been missing for weeks, see you and kiss you. Or had you forgotten about that little exchange?”

“I wasn’t-“

“Of course you were talking about Rhys, you damned fool. I’m no idiot.” Wilhelm leant across the table and captured Jack’s chin between his fingers. “Do you _know_ how much I’m betting on you two getting together? Don’t make me lose my money, Jackie.”

Jack pushed him away, eyes like dinner plates. “You’re _betting_ real money on this?”

Smirking, Wilhelm sat back in the chair and folded his arms. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s goddamn inevitable. The way you look at him, the way he looks at you. The lingering touches, the after-hours tattoo sessions, the way he cares for Angel...” Wilhelm listed off on his fingers as Jack rolled his lip under his teeth.

“So you...you think he likes me then? I’m not being an idiot?”

“Oh Jack,” Wilhelm snickered, brushing a hand through Jack’s hair. “You _are_ an idiot. The biggest idiot in all the land. Such an idiot it physically hurts me to even look at you.”

“Hey now. What?”

The large man threw his head back and laughed. As the laughter petered out, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.

“You’re an idiot because you haven’t swept him off his feet and claimed him as your own yet. Like, seriously? What are you even waiting for?”

Jack swallowed.

He didn’t even have an answer for that.

*

Rhys was so glad that they had decided to open late and close early on Christmas Eve. With everything cleaned up and ready for after the big day, Rhys had taken to sitting in an armchair by the front window, a cup of hot tea between his palms. Outside, he could see the heavy snow drift down and blanket the empty street. There was something magical about the silence of it all, both inside and outside of the café.

Smiling, Rhys took a sip of his tea and closed his eyes, pleasant thoughts drifting in and out of his consciousness as his body began to relax after such a busy day. Yvette had made special cookies which all the children had loved. Rhys had given a free coffee to each family that came in as a gesture of kindness. The compliments had rolled in: ‘you’re the sweetest café in town’, ‘we will definitely be coming back!’, ‘these cookies are the greatest, mister!’. It was the interactions between guests that Rhys enjoyed about his job. He lived for making people warm inside, be it with coffee or compliments. He was always surprised and overjoyed to meet people who appeared to live by the same motto.  

Fiona had kept the fire going all day, but after she had left at five to visit family with Sasha, it had been slowly dwindling down into nothing but a glowing ember. As a shudder washed through Rhys, he sighed and rolled out of the chair to kneel down at the hearth. He tidied up the ashes and replaced the charred logs with fresh. He stuffed newspaper and pieces of white fire starter blocks in the gaps before lighting an article about Tassiter at the corner and placing it in with a smirk. Before long, fire was lapping at the edges of the logs, creeping in through the bark and beginning to burn them vigorously.

Rhys yawned massively. His previous hangover still clung to him ever so slightly, so his body had not been his friend all day long. He had been tired and irritable and achy. Taking the opportunity to rest, he spread out across the freshly vacuumed hearth rug, lying on his back and stretching so much that his stomach and hip bones were bared, directly catching some of the delicious heat from the flames. He lay there for a few moments before a knock at the window had him gasping and sitting up.  Squinting in the low light of the café, Rhys made out the outline of the shape.

It was Jack.

Suddenly, memories of the night before washed back over him. Mistletoe...chocolate and champagne...Jack’s mouth on his. Rhys took a deep breath.

Had that really happened?

Slowly, he clambered to his feet and crossed the room, keeping eye contact with Jack as he unlocked the door.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Rhys replied, voice small. “Everything okay?”

Jack furrowed his eyebrows, staring hard at the man before him. “No, not really.”

Rhys gulped. Had he done something wrong? Was it about the kiss? “Why?”

Jack took a step into the café. Rhys took a step back. “Because I’m an idiot, apparently.”

“Well, I could have told you that,” Rhys began to say, giggling, but he was cut off by Jack’s mouth against his own. He was caught so off guard, in fact, that he nearly fell backwards, but Jack caught him in his arms and held him close. Rhys squeaked against the suddenness of it all, but quickly found that he melted into Jack’s grasp, sliding his arms around Jack’s neck and sliding his tongue in between Jack’s lips.

Jack faltered, leaning his neck back and looking at Rhys with uncertain eyes. “Am I being an idiot now?” he asked softly, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Tell me if I’m being an idiot now and I’ll leave.”

“Yes you are,” Rhys chuckled as he leant in to kiss along Jack’s throat. “An idiot for thinking it wouldn’t be okay to just keep kissing me.”

Hands gripping at the younger man’s shoulders, Jack let his head roll back as Rhys trailed his tongue down to the collar of his tee. When Rhys’ mouth came up and suckled on his earlobe, he gasped and moaned right there on the spot. To get back at the tall man wrapped around him, Jack hooked his thumbs into the top of Rhys’ jeans and applied just enough pressure for him to inhale sharply and sigh, burying his face into the crook of Jack’s shoulder.

“Holy shit, Jack, are you sure-“

At this, Jack pulled Rhys back, hands firmly planted on his shoulders. “Do I look unsure to you, pumpkin?

There was a deep, lustful hunger in his eyes which Rhys was sure could be found in his own if Jack hadn’t noticed it already. All Rhys wanted was Jack’s hands all over him and he wanted him to...

 _...God_ , he just _wanted_ him.

Filled with a desperate need, Rhys fisted his hands into Jack’s shirt and dragged him over to the fireplace. He tugged him down onto the rug, both men on their knees, and caught Jack’s mouth with his own once again. Jack was swearing and whispering his name against his lips, his hands slipping under Rhys’ shirt and brushing over his nipples. Rhys whimpered; he hadn’t been touched like this in a very long time. He barely remembered the last time at all.

A swift manoeuvre from Jack and Rhys was on his back, gazing up at the older man who hovered above his face by only a matter of centimetres. Jack placed his lips against Rhys’ own for a moment before propping himself up on his elbows and grinning down at him.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like this, Rhysie?” Jack asked, voice hoarse. “Do you know how much I’ve dreamed about touching you and tasting you all over?”

Rhys could have moaned at the words that were like honey dripping out of Jack’s mouth but he sucked the sound back in, biting his tongue. He shook his head.

“Oh kitten,” Jack rolled his eyes, smirking, “I’ve wanted you ever since the moment I first laid eyes on you. When I saw your cute ass up that ladder painting that sign. When you gave me sass and pouted and acted like a goddamn stubborn little princess. You’re just _perfect_ , baby.”

Jack was playing Rhys like an instrument and Rhys was loving every single moment of it. He was completely under Jack’s control, writhing beneath him and bucking his hips up, wordlessly begging, ‘please fuck me now, I’ve waited long enough.’

Jack’s replying kiss told him that he didn’t need to wait much longer.

“Hey baby, I know I want it bad and I know you do too, but how’s about we don’t run the risk of being seen through the window?” Jack jerked his head back in the direction of the shopfront, running his tongue between his lips as he began to pull Rhys up from the floor. Legs like jelly, Rhys found it difficult to stand, but Jack had him in a tight hold, guiding him towards the stairs.

It took them about half an hour to reach the top of the stairs. Between the bottom and the top, Jack had managed to essentially tear off all of Rhys’ clothing apart from his boxers. Rhys had just as eagerly returned the favour, ripping open Jack’s shirt and letting the buttons spill down the steps. Jack growled and sucked a harsh, red mark onto Rhys’ neck, right above where the collar would sit.

“Oh shit, fuck you,” Rhys hissed through a moan, letting his head fall back against the wall. “How will I hide that from my family tomorrow?”

Jack did not reply. At the top of the stairs, he grasped Rhys under his thighs and hoisted him around his waist with surprising ease. “Christ you’re leggy,” Jack panted, licking a line up Rhys’ throat. He bit down hard. “I love it.”

Whining, Rhys buried his hands in Jack’s hair and clutched at it tightly, even tighter with every bite and lick and deliciously filthy word that came out of Jack’s dirty little mouth.

“Which way’s the bedroom, kitten?”

Rhys pointed the way with a shaky finger and before he could blink, Jack had him on the bed. Rhys’ hands were immediately at Jack’s belt, tearing it open and shoving Jack’s pants down to reveal a large, leaking bulge practically throbbing in his black boxers. With a smirk and a bite of his lip, Rhys sat forward on the bed, gripped Jack’s hips hard and mouthed at his cock through the material, drawing gasps and moans from the man above him.

“Fuck, Rhysie. I knew you’d have a wicked mouth.” Jack carded his hand through the younger’s hair before stroking down his cheek and pulling his face up to look him in the eyes. “Maybe next time, baby. But right now, I wanna be inside you more than anything else.”

The words had Rhys reeling. Jack was everything he’d wanted him to be in the bedroom and more. Demanding, in charge, the boss. Jack had assumed he’d be on top, but he’d assumed correctly. Rhys was in no way arguing with that decision. Rhys pushed himself up on his knees and slid his hands around Jack’s neck, applying a light pressure where his thumbs met Jack’s windpipe. Jack raised an eyebrow and chuckled darkly.

“Not so vocal now, are we Rhysie baby? But god are you telling me how much you want it.” Jack plucked his arms away, curling his large hands around Rhys’ wrists and squeezing back. He pushed Rhys back onto the bed and climbed on top, hands still clamped around his wrists. Jack kissed down Rhys’ chest, rolling his tongue around his nipple as he went. Rhys cried out, bucking his hips and pressing his back against the sheets. He wanted Jack in any way he could have him: mouth around his dick, fucking him in the ass... _anything_. If Jack kept up his teasing and biting, Rhys was gonna come right then and there.

“Jack...ngh...fucking...god...just...”

“Yes?” Jack asked with a grin, blinking up at Jack from his position just above his belly button. Rhys’ abs were clenched so tight he could barely breathe.

“Nightstand...lube...anything... _please_.” His breath came out ragged and his words fell out desperate. Jack laughed but clearly decided he too could hold back no longer and he reached across, opening the drawer and digging about before pulling out Rhys’ bottle of lube. In the process, Rhys had removed his boxers and tossed them across the room, uncaring as to where they fell. Jack did not take his eyes off of Rhys as he lay back down and presented himself, legs spreading wide. The older man’s gaze travelled south, falling upon Rhys’ pleading cock and instantly regarding it as though it were made of gold.

Jack let the unopened lube bottle fall to the sheets as he pushed Rhys’ thighs further apart and licked his lips, swallowing hard.

“Oh shit, Rhysie. Look at you. You’re fucking beautiful. Fucking _perfect_. Shit. Better than I could ever have imagined. Screw what I said earlier, baby. Screw it. I’m gonna treat you like you deserve because that dick is too damned pretty to not be in my mouth right this fucking second.”

Rhys didn’t even have any time to register Jack’s words before Jack had taken him in entirely, mouth hot and wet and wonderful. The sudden touching and sucking was almost too much; Rhys nearly came before Jack had even moved his mouth. Jack certainly knew what he was doing. He hollowed his cheeks and swirled his tongue at just the right moments. Embarrassingly, Jack hadn’t even been down there for three minutes when Rhys felt a wave of pleasure wash over him, indicating his inevitable orgasm.

“Jack, fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-“ And he did. Jack’s mouth stayed tight around his cock as he spilled out into it, blaring out a pornographic moan as he did so. “Oh my god, Jack.”

Jack swallowed and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He looked down at Rhys with a smug expression on his face.

“You taste just a sweet as you are, kitten,” Jack purred, leaning down to kiss Rhys deeply, letting him get a taste of himself. “Now open your legs and let me get you nice and ready. Sound okay?” Jack ran his fingers down Rhys’ cheek, lightly as a feather. He kissed Rhys’ nose and cheek before sitting back on his haunches and grabbing the abandoned lube. Rhys closed his eyes, hearing the click of the lid and the squelch of the liquid. He inhaled suddenly when he felt Jack’s wet finger slip inside of him, curling upwards in search of that sweet, sweet spot Rhys had become unacquainted with. Jack leant forwards and kissed Rhys slowly, timing his kisses with each pump of his finger. He added another, stretching Rhys open, drawing out whimpers and moans until he eventually added a third and curled them around, finding Rhys’ prostate. Rhys shrieked, grabbing Jack’s shoulders. Jack beamed and kissed him hard, hitting the spot again and again and again. Bucking his hips, Rhys tried to keep up but it was just so very, very good. He was panting now, begging Jack with every breath just to fuck him senseless.

Jack knelt back and pulled off his boxers. The sound of a condom opening was music to Rhys’ ears. Jack lined himself up and pressed the head of his cock part way into Rhys, coming back down to kiss him again. He pushed in further, all the way to the hilt, before sliding back out and hissing.

“Rhysie, oh my god, you feel fucking incredible.”

Rhys dug his hands into the sheets as Jack pushed in with a little more force than before. Rhys relished it and ground himself down, chasing Jack’s cock with his ass.

“Fuck me hard, Jack. Fuck me hard and don’t fucking stop until you come inside me.” His hands were now back in Jack’s hair, pulling him close and kissing him hard. “Do you understand?”

Jack snickered and pulled away, sitting back on his heels and slamming himself into Rhys, who cried out.

“You mean like this, pumpkin?” He did it again. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes Jack! Oh god, yes!” Rhys was a melted puddle – putty in Jack’s hands now. “D-Don’t stop!”

Jack did not stop. He fucked Rhys and he fucked him hard, just liked he’d been asked. Soon, he came with a shout before collapsing on top of Rhys, breathing heavily. Rhys smiled as he ran his hands up and down Jack’s back, which was slick with sweat. He kissed the top of the man’s head. Jack rolled over and looked at Rhys with a strange yet contented expression.

“You’re something else, Rhysie. Goddamn, you’re really something else.”

Rhys turned and snuggled against Jack’s side, burying his face into his neck. “That was awesome,” he whispered, placing a kiss on Jack’s sweltering skin. “We should totally do that again sometime.”

“Perhaps.” Jack yawned. “If I’m feeling like I want a tall, lanky, sassy man in particular.”

Rhys giggled as Jack wrapped his arms around him.

 _Yes,_ he thought, mind going back to the day he could finally call the café his own. _Moving in here truly has been the beginning of something great._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once u go rhack u never go back


	8. First Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I've never written a coffee shop AU before so I hope I've done it justice. Alas, we have come to the end of our little AU adventure but FEAR NOT! I have another fic idea lined up, this time set in the Borderlands!Universe and it's just slightly off of canon with Atlas!Rhys vs Jack. Rhys has got a little something something that might just be Jack's be all and end all. 
> 
> Keep an eye out for that one ;) 
> 
> Thanks for all the love, kudos and comments, my darlings. You've made this worth writing and sticking with till the end. 
> 
> Till next time, ya filthy sinners.

Rhys awoke, utterly sated and enveloped in warmth. It was dark when he opened his eyes, despite the clock telling him it was eight. He yawned, smiling as he did so. Rolling over, he was surprised to not find Jack lying beside him. He stroked a hand across the empty space. It was ever so slightly warm.

“Jack?” he croaked into the apartment. Silence. It was then that Rhys noticed the piece of paper on the nightstand.

_Hey babe, I had to go. It’s Christmas Day! Can’t miss starting it without my Angel. We’re having Christmas at her apartment this year. Have a great day with your family, last night was a blast. I’ll see you soon._

_Oh, and Merry Christmas, Rhysie._

_J_

_P.S. You looked damn gorgeous this morning, kitten. Can’t wait to ravish you again._

Rhys couldn’t help the broad, beaming grin that grew on his face. The squeal that escaped his lips should have been embarrassing but no one could hear it so he didn’t care in the slightest. Still smiling, he climbed out of bed and crossed the room to the window. It was snowing heavily. A perfect white Christmas.

*

“Ah, shit!” The car refused to start for the tenth time. Swearing again, Rhys smacked the steering wheel hard. “Stupid piece of junk car! What use are you?!”

He had no idea how he was going to make it to his mom’s. The snowstorm outside was getting progressively worse; so much so that he could barely see a foot in front of the hood. Filled with rage, he opened up his phone and with freezing, quivering hands he found his mom’s number.

“Merry Christmas, Rhys!” his family cheered when they answered the phone. Rhys couldn’t help but smile sadly, swallowing.

“Hey guys. Merry Christmas!”

“Are you okay, sweetie? You sound miserable!” His mom had the phone now. He missed her so much and he _hated_ what he was about to say.

“Um, I have some bad news.” Rhys took a deep breath. “I can’t make it. My car...it’s dead.”

The few moments of silence had Rhys’ heart hitting the car seat. He could almost hear his mother’s happiness deflating, but what he did hear was her sigh and cough lightly.

“That’s a real shame.”

Rhys rolled his lip under his teeth, holding back tears with all his might. “I know, Mama. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I hate myself for this happening-“

“Oh Rhys, don’t be silly,” she tutted, cutting him off. “It’s not your fault, munchkin. I’ll just have to give extra helpings of dinner to your sister, lord knows she needs it.” Rhys chewed hard on his lip, tears trickling down his cheeks. “It won’t be the same without you, my darling.”

“No it won’t,” he replied, squeezing the phone. “I...I guess I’ll have to spend Christmas alone this year.”

“Isn’t there anyone who can take you in?”

“Sasha, Fiona and Yvette all live on the other side of the city. Vaughn’s visiting his folks in Alaska.”

“No one else?”

*

Shuffling from foot to foot, Rhys rubbed his arms and pressed the doorbell. It rang and in under ten seconds, the door flew open to reveal a grinning Jack, holding his arms out for Rhys.

“Hey, kiddo.”

With a whimper, Rhys threw himself into the embrace and held Jack tightly, allowing himself to shed a few tears before wiping them on the back of his hand and stepping away. Jack closed the door behind him.

“Hope it wasn’t too hard for you to find the place?”

Rhys shook his head, letting Jack take his coat and scarf. “No not at all. Jack, you don’t know how much I appreciate-“

Jack cut him off with a kiss, smiling against Rhys’ lips and squeezing him softly. Rhys was slightly stunned for a moment, but slowly lifted his hands to Jack’s cheeks. The older man pulled away.

“Can you not put your freezing hands on my face? Thanks.”

Rhys giggled. “Sorry.”

Jack led him upstairs and into Angel’s apartment. The scent of cooking turkey and cranberry sauce wafted through the air, the Christmas tree in the corner haphazardly decorated with what looked like hand-made decorations. Angel waved at him from the kitchen, moving herself using the countertop.

“Hey!”

“You’re walking!” Rhys gasped, beaming.

Angel shrugged. “It’s Christmas. I wanted to be a miracle.”

Jack strolled past Rhys, picking up a bottle of wine from the table and pouring a glass. “She’s taking it easy,” he added warningly, glancing at his daughter with meaning in his eyes. He looked back at Rhys and passed him the glass. “She’s not quite ready to go frolicking about the place.”

“Oh but _you_ are, _aren’t_ you Dad? Frolicking about all over Rhys’ place.”

Rhys almost dropped his glass and the colour drained from Jack’s face. Angel sniggered and rolled her eyes.

“Oh come off it. I’m sixteen not a freaking child. You think you can waltz in here at seven in the morning humming and singing to yourself and think that I _wouldn’t_ know what or,” she looked at Rhys, wiggling her eyebrows, “sorry _who_ you did?”

“I-“

“By the way, I was totally betting that you nerds wouldn’t get your shit together and realise you love each other. I mean it was getting tiring watching your blatant feelings get washed aside for some stupid reason or another. Thanks for being selfish and losing me my ten bucks.”

The word ‘love’ fluttered through the air from Angel’s lips, settling on Jack and Rhys like an elephant squatting on their shoulders. Rhys blushed deeply, looking down and fumbling with his glass. Jack rubbed the back of his head, eyes wide as he stared at his smirking daughter. Neither of them had mentioned, let alone _thought_ , about _love_.

Yet as Rhys thought about it, he couldn’t deny that the feelings he had for the man in front of him were anything short of it. He’d never felt anything like this for anyone else. Lifting his eyes, gazing at Jack through his lashes, Rhys smiled a small smile. Jack glimpsed at him, looking back at Angel before glancing back, this time looking at Rhys properly. He noticed the smile and felt a strange tightness in his chest.

He smiled back.

*

Stomachs full and eyes heavy, Rhys curled up on the couch under Jack’s arm. Angel was at the piano in the corner, playing one of her recent exam pieces, and the lulling music was sending Rhys off to sleep.

Jack nudged him, kissing him on the top of the head.

“Merry Christmas, kitten,” he whispered, lips against his ear. Rhys smiled, leaning up into the touch. He stretched and closed his eyes.

“Merry Christmas.” His voice slurred from the wine and the exhaustion of the day. “Thanks for everything.”

Jack was quiet for a while. It seemed that he’d gone back to listening to the music until he pulled Rhys into his lap and kissed him gently. He leant his forehead against Rhys.

“Will you stay tonight?”

Rhys smirked. “At your daughter’s apartment?”

Jack shrugged. “Doesn’t need to mean anything happens. Just...you know...stay?”

“I’d love to.”

So Rhys stayed with Jack and Angel that Christmas night.

He also stayed for a hell of a lot longer than that.

 

 

 

He stayed for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked the fic, please feel free to tell me in the comments! :D x
> 
> Also come chat with me on tumblr <3

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on tumblr! @loki-dokey


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